Dark Soul
by ravynwren
Summary: Sybil has traveled to the Carpathian Mountains in search of history but ends up biting off more than she can chew. When she meets Matias of the Carpathians, will she allow him to protect her or continue off in pursuit of her mystery?
1. Chapter 1

**All right, so chapter one of my Carpathian fanfic. I have nothing much to say besides that I hope you enjoy it. **

**disclaimer: I do not own any of the Carpathians or subsequent characteristics of the world. I only let my imagination play for a bit. **

* * *

"You look very excited today, Sybil," Slavica commented as a young woman entered the inn.

Sybil grinned shyly and nodded, setting down her pack. After a small silence, she dove into conversation. "You know I've been researching the Migration Period during the decline of the Roman Empire."

Slavica nodded, lips curving up. Personally, she did not understand the allure of history, but there was no escaping Sybil's enthusiasm for the subject. The young woman had a way of sweeping someone off to ancient kingdoms and battlefields. Though Sybil had been in the village only a few weeks, Slavica had come to like and respect the quiet young historian.

Sybil's smile widened and her breath caught in her excitement. Really, everyone told her she made too much of a fuss over old stories and forgotten tales, but she could not help it; everything interested her. But, for a number of years, the northern region of Romania--and its long and rich history--had become her obsession.

She was determined to find out whatever she could and incorporate it into her growing thesis. Besides, while the region was not _specific_ to her subject, it still pertained, somewhat, to her research. Not to mention Sybil could use the quietude and peace found in the Carpathian Mountains. With their mystery and beauty, they reminded her of home.

"A few months ago, I had come across mention of the 'Karpatii' people. It was said they thrived amongst the peaks of the Carpathian Mountains."

Slavica became abruptly still. "Oh?"

Unconscious of her companion's sudden intensity, Sybil continued. "I had originally believed these Karpatii had been assimilated into other tribes during the Migration Period." She ran her hand through her hair awkwardly. "I didn't mention them before because I know this is pretty boring."

Numb, Slavica shook her head in protest.

Seeming to take the gesture as encouragement, Sybil continued. "Anyway. Recently I've found evidence of their presence beyond even then."

The young woman bobbed excitedly. "I was going through some documents pertaining to the Turkish Wars when I found mention of the 'Karpaty' defending a village deep within the Carpathian Mountains. Though the spelling is different, I have to hope they're one in the same, as both name reference the Carpathian Mountains themselves."

The blood drained from Slavica's face and the woman leaned heavily against the counter. This time, Sybil took notice.

Concerned for the older woman, Sybil gently patted the innkeeper's hand. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Should I call for a doctor?"

Slavica waved her off. "No need," she managed. "I did not sleep well last night."

Sybil watched the woman for a long moment. "All right," she said reluctantly, shouldering her pack, "but do get some rest while I'm out of town."

At Sybil's words, Slavica suddenly straightened, concern and fear written in her expression. "You mean to leave?"

Sybil nodded, frowning in confusion. "I thought I mentioned it earlier. There is an old church deeper in the forest and I'm going there to see what I can find out about these mysterious Karpaty." She shook her head. "There is very little information about them, and they are almost non-existent after the Turkish Wars. Not to mention the fact that many people around here refuse to acknowledge their existence. I'm hoping this church can at least point me in the right direction."

If possible, Slavica's face grew paler. "Please, do not go. At least wait until my friend Mikhail visits; he is a great scholar and perhaps he will have some answers for you."

Sybil laughed good-naturedly. "Please apologize to him for me, but this is something I'd rather not save until later."

She reached around and gave Slavica's hand a rare squeeze. "I'll be back in a few days, I promise."

Slavica studied her for a moment and then sighed. She knew stubbornness when she saw it. "All right, then. But promise me you will keep to the church--especially in the night. The forest is filled with many dangerous creatures."

"I promise," Sybil vowed. "Now, all that's needed is for me to stop by my cabin for a few last minute things." She smiled sheepishly. "I've forgotten something already."

She turned towards the door of the inn, but stopped and smiled back at Slavica. "Thank you for your help, Slavica." Sybil blushed shyly and then crossed the room. "I'll see you in a few days."

Stepping back out into the morning sun, Sybil winced. She could have sworn it was just overcast a few minutes before. Now, however, there was hardly a cloud in the sky. But then, it was rather early in the morning, and she had often heard that the weather around the mountains was mercurial.

Groaning into the unfamiliar morning air, she set off for her truck.

For two months, she studied in Bucharest, trying to gather data for her doctorate. Her research had soon taken her to the city of Cluj-Napoca, in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains. It had not been long after arriving in the ancient city that Sybil ran across mention of the Karpatii. Carpathians.

But continued research into the new subject proved difficult. The Romanians clung possessive to their histories, and Sybil constantly found herself faced with roadblocks. And, After another month of searching, she had found only three other mentions of the Karpatii, the name disappearing after the rise of the Magyars.

There, Sybil decided to stop looking. She believed the Karpatii had died out--or been assimilated by the cultures of other more dominant tribes. But the Karpatii filled her mind. Night and day, she thought only of them. Even her dreams were invaded by the mysterious people. They were fast turning into an obsession, and Sybil considered it a stroke of fate that she found them again.

While traveling throughout the numerous villages in northern Romania, she found a record mentioning a village saved from Turkish armies by the Karpaty people. Though the record mentioned only the deeds of a pair of twins, Sybil had felt deep in her bones that it was the break she had looked for. Having gathered enough information to substantially add to her thesis, Sybil chose to remain within the shadows of the Carpathian Mountains to work for a bit on the writing aspect of her doctorate. There, she hoped to hear more of the elusive Karpaty tribe.

Though she rented a cabin not far from the village, Sybil took every chance to visit the inn, where she was sure to find many of the residents milling about. The information flowing through the tiny hub interested Sybil, and she found she grew to rather like a good many people in the village.

It took three more weeks, but finally Sybil had found something. Someone in the village mentioned an old church higher up the mountains which had been built around the time of the last mention of the Karpaty. It was a long shot, but Sybil--hoping the church would provide a few more clues--was determined to find it.

Even if she found nothing about her mystery people, Sybil would consider the trip a good adventure, in the very least. The church was a part of the flow of time, a relic from another era. Sybil would love simply to stare at it.

A sigh escaped her as she got into her truck. Regardless of what she told herself, an adventure was nothing without her best friends.

Eliana Lowry and Aingeal Huggins had been with her since high school and they had a knack for making anything seem fun. But, with college over and life beginning, the three had seen less of each other. Eliana had moved to Japan to teach English, while Aingeal remained in the states, working at a University library.

Since traveling to Europe for her doctorate work, Sybil had not seen either of her friends in nearly six months. But now, more than ever, she wished they were with her. They could at least make the prospect of hiking through the woods looking for a centuries-old church seem less intimidating.

Sybil parked in front of the cabin and dashed to the front door. Though the old church might not even hold any information, she was already getting jittery. The sooner she arrived there, the better. But she really needed her maps first. And her GPS.

Scolding herself for her forgetfulness, Sybil entered her cabin and stooped low to pet the black cat who flung itself at her legs.

"Hey, Hecate," she crooned before marching over to a nearby table.

Sure enough, there were her maps and GPS, lying there as innocently as when she placed them there.

"I'm going to get lost and tumble into a pre-dug grave," she muttered to Hecate.

The cat simply stared at her with molten gold eyes.

Sybil gathered her things and then went throughout the small cabin, trying to see if she was missing anything else. "All right," she finally said, striding towards the door. "Be good, Hecate, and don't forget to eat your dead birds and things _outside_."

Hecate cocked her head to the side and then began promptly to preen herself. Sybil laughed and shut the cabin door.

Certain now that she had everything, Sybil got back into her truck and spread out her map on the dash. She was horrible with directions, but at least she could use a compass. Though her GPS certainly made things a lot easier.

According to what she could glean from the villagers, the church was to the north, settled in a small, hidden valley not too far away. Many of the villagers feared going there, claiming there was a strange feel to the areas surrounding certain mountains.

Though Sybil was admittedly superstitious--especially while roaming about the Romanian countryside--she believed herself perfectly safe during the day.

In all likelihood, she was more apt to run into a bear or a wolf pack than any supernatural creatures, but it still paid to be cautious. It was not good to wander about at night anywhere. Even her own home in the Appalachians proved disturbing in the darkest hours.

Still, Sybil preferred working at night and was unused to the early morning. So, when she tried to figure out how to work her GPS, her mind merely blanked.

Growling in frustration, Sybil closed her eyes and leaned back against her headrest. This might take all day, but she was determined to find that church. Even if it held nothing of interest, it in itself was a piece of history, its age written into the very stones.

Opening her eyes, Sybil turned the GPS on and punched the keys. Within moments, she had it working properly. All she had needed was to settle her thoughts.

Without hesitation, she put the maps and GPS in the passenger seat and started the truck. With one last glance at the cabin, she drove away and towards her own piece of history.

* * *

As the trail she followed ended, Sybil glanced at her watch. It had taken approximately an hour and a half of careful driving to reach that point. And, according to her maps, she had a few miles left to go.

Scowling at the prospect of hiking out the rest of the distance, Sybil gathered her things and got out of the truck.

Her only worry about walking was her innate ability to injure herself at every turn. At least indoors, she could be assured of not getting a severe infection. Or tripping over something and hitting her head on a rock. Though she had bashed her head on a countertop years before with relatively little trouble.

But, then, she had always felt so calm out of doors. She could lie for hours on the ground, just listening. The mere action always lifted her spirits. Still, hiking had never been her thing.

Despite her fears, Sybil traveled through the woods with surprising ease. Though obviously disused, there was a faint path meandering through the forest. Though the foliage was thick, she could see the dark shapes of the mountain growing steadily larger.

The time flew by and Sybil found herself approaching a clearing up ahead. Heart beating in excitement, she rushed the last few feet and burst from the trees, smile tugging at her lips.

The church was small and unkempt, but with the sun lighting it, the structure looked to have come straight from a story book. Its stones were gray, the windows large and uncovered. Tall grass sprang from between the cobblestone path leading to the entrance, and wildflowers bloomed around the crumbling building.

Sybil stepped forward but stopped as she felt a slight resistance to the air. Frowning, she took a deep breath and began walking towards the structure. The air moved around her and, for a moment, Sybil felt as if some gossamer veil was being lifted. The sensation was soon forgotten, however, as she turned her attention back onto the church.

Reverently, Sybil crossed the distance. She was not the most religious person, but even here she could tell there was something incredibly holy about the place. Though the church was forlorn with its broken walls and holey roof, it was a sight to see, a testament to the loving hands that had built it so far from civilization.

She paused for a moment, bending to stroke one of the flowers growing prettily next to the entrance. For a moment, she imagined a flow of energy between them, and Sybil smiled at the thought. She hoped the flower--and the rest of the meadow itself--could continue to prosper so beautifully. Sybil felt that if she could just give a piece of herself, she could make that wish happen.

Straightening, she focused on the task at hand. With shaking hands, Sybil gently pushed at the rotting door and stepped across the threshold. Her eyes greedily soaked in the sight of the lovely, warm interior.

The walls, though stone, were decorated with dust tapestries, depicting holy scenes through the grime left by time and the elements. Simple wooden benches lines the sanctuary, a deep, rich color that told Sybil the builders had been supplied with a good amount of money.

But it was the altar, with its towering crucifix which drew Sybil's gaze. Christ's image had been lovingly carved into the wood before being inlaid with what appeared to be silver. Though it was plainer than many Sybil had seen, it was far lovelier. Such a simple design held a certain elegance which she could not deny.

Somber now, Sybil approached the altar and knelt, bowing her head with respect. It did not matter that her belief in God had long since faded; she could feel the echoes of belief and faith which had gone into the creation of this isolated church.

After a moment, Sybil rose and went over to one of the nearby tapestries. Carefully, she blew away the dust laying on the delicate threads.

As the material moved slightly, Sybil cringed. A historian she may be, but an archaeologist she was not. Uncovering artifacts was not her forte. Still, some of the dust was removed, giving Sybil a better look at the scene unfolding before her.

That particular tapestry contained a collage of scenes from the Old Testament, set in a pattern seeming to allude to the Turkish Wars.

Catching a glimpse of something interesting, Sybil bent a little and ever so gently brushed her hand over the scene of Daniel in the lion's den. The depiction, however, was a bit different than she remembered from her youth.

In the story, God held close the mouths of the lions to prevent Daniel from death. On the tapestry, however, the lions were held fast by a tall, forbidding man with long dark hair. Though the man lay dead in the next scene, he had quite obviously kept the lions from devouring Daniel.

Sybil let out a sound of excitement. Could this, then, be a reference to the Karpaty?

With increasing anticipation, she examined the other tapestries. But the mysterious figure did not appear again. Sighing in disappointment, Sybil sank to the floor and leaned against one of the benches.

The bench, however, did not stay put. Much to Sybil's surprise, it moved, revealing a small hole in the stone floor.

Heart beating, Sybil took out a flashlight and aimed it into the depression. And, as the beam of light touched on the leather cover of a book, everything stilled.

Sybil reached towards the hole and then stopped. Silently reprimanding herself for her stupidity, the young woman pulled on a pair of gloves, not wanting to damage the obviously old artifact.

Slowly, Sybil reached in an took hold of the book. She pulled the tome from its hiding spot. It was thin, more like a journal than a historical record or Bible.

Holding her breath, she opened the book, wondering desperately what she would find.

Sybil stared at the page, puzzled. She had expected Romanian--perhaps even Hungarian. Though she was no expert in either, she could read at least a little. But this language was neither of those. In fact, Sybil did not recognize the language at all.

Frowning, she attempted to read some of the words out loud. Suddenly, she smiled. This was definitely a language related--in some fashion--to Hungarian. However, it seemed more closely related to Finnish.

Scratching her head, Sybil scanned the pages a bit more, trying to puzzle out the language. She thought it a very old dialect, at the least, perhaps having come into existence before the Finno-Ugric split. Which made it very old indeed. The very fact that, during the time of the Turkish Wars, there were people who could still speak it--let alone write it--was amazing.

Still, without being an expert in the Uralic languages, Sybil could not be certain. Shaking her head in defeat, she wrapped the artifact up. She would send the book to a colleague to be translated. For now, however, she needed to return to her truck.

Glancing outside, Sybil cursed. Already, the sun was beginning its descent. It had taken a couple hours for her to finish walking the distance from the end of the path to the church, and she had tarried too long within the building. She did not think she would make it back to her truck before darkness fell.

Quickly, she packed everything up. She stood looking at the interior of the church for a long moment before hurriedly leaving.

As clouds once more rolled across the sky, Sybil winced. This would not be a pleasant trip, especially if it began to rain.

Sybil rushed along the tiny trail, a strange fear blooming in her heart. Around her, the trees swayed in the wind, whispering for her to hurry. Even the earth seemed to urge her on, though she tripped and scraped her hand along the bark of a nearby tree.

A real sense of urgency filled her and Sybil found herself moving faster and faster through the forest. She made it to her truck in half the time, but the sun was already beginning to set, causing a strange fear to blossom in her heart.

Sybil had always been a little afraid of the dark, her mind imagining all sorts of strange creatures moving through the night. And it was no different then. Her mind whirled as she broke out into a run towards her truck, making her look wildly around for some hidden enemy.

But she saw nothing. Still, the wind picked up, howling in frenzy as she wrapped her hand around the handle of the truck door.

Just as she flung her things into the vehicle, however, Sybil heard a high-pitched cackle. Whirling, she found herself face to face with the most hideous creature she had ever seen.

He looked at her with glowing red eyes, the flesh on his face rotted and worn. At the smell of her fear, he grinned maniacally, revealing yellowed and blood-stained fangs.

Sybil felt a scream gathering in her throat, her legs locking into place as the creature took hold of her injured hand.

"It has been long since such a succulent fly has entered my web," he hissed, lowering his head towards Sybil's still bleeding palm. "Well, little fly, I hope you fear. It makes the feast so much more enjoyable."

Sybil's breath fled her lungs in a painful rush as the vampire sank his fangs into her hand with brutal force. She felt the blood flowing too fast into the creature and, though she tried to pull away, her head began to spin uncontrollably.

The monster quickly abandoned her hand and, eyes gleaming, her tore at her throat. It was then that the darkness took Sybil, her last though of Slavica's warning about the dangers of the night.

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Dark Soul. More chapters should follow. Please remember to review, even if you hated it!**

**-ravynwren**


	2. Chapter 2

**So here's another chapter. I want to thank everyone who reviewed; you are awesome. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy this chapter as well!**

**disclaimer: I do not own anyone in here but Sybil and a few other original side characters!**

* * *

Sybil woke to the sharp, burning pain of ragged wounds and the gritty feel of dirt. A horrible, metallic taste clung to her tongue and she feared she might have injured her lip. For a moment, she could not remember what happened, but then it all flooded back and she shot up.

Vampire.

The word reverberated through her, causing her heart to pound against her already aching chest. Her body felt leaden, pressed to the earth beneath her by some invisible force. It was cold, terribly cold, and Sybil could not keep herself from shivering. She felt so weak, no doubt from the large loss of blood.

Again, she shuddered, her body echoing the chaos of her mind. Sybil wanted to scream endlessly, to close her eyes and make it all not true. But she could not. No matter what she did, she could not escape the feel of teeth tearing into her. Nor could she drown out the sound of that evil laughter.

There was little light in the dark cavern she found herself in, but there were a few tiny shafts of sunlight allowing Sybil to study her dim surroundings.

There was no exit. Sybil could see nothing but walls and darkness.

Asher eyes lighted on the shadowed figure of a rotting corpse, she turned away, bile rising her throat. It was then that she noticed the others.

Unable to stand the sight, she drew up her legs and buried her head in her arms, sobs wracking her small frame. She was only the latest in a long line of victims, and the sorrow she felt for the dead women around her filled her to the brim.

What had they done to deserve such treatment? What was happening?

Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, Sybil saw one of the bodies move. Jumping, she let out a scream. But, as her eyes adjusted to the deeper shadows, tears began to flow silently down her cheeks once more.

Sitting before her, a hand tucked into that of an already decomposing body, was a small, dirt-stained girl. She appeared no older than five or six, with long, tangled black hair.

The child stared at Sybil, eyes blank. But, as Sybil crawled closer, the girl erupted into a frenzy of frantic movements.

Sybil paused, studying the little girl once more. Nothing appeared wrong, but Sybil felt a subtle warmth emanating from the earth beneath her hands. When everything else in the cave seemed ice cold, the soil surrounding the girl radiated a faint energy that told Sybil to exercise caution.

The more she examined the ground in front of the little girl, the more Sybil became convinced there was a trap of some sort. What it was, she did not know.

She frowned in distress. She felt a strong need to help the girl, to wrap her arms around her and offer comfort. But she could not. So she rocked back on her heels and instead sent her young companion what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Hello," she whispered. "My name is Sybil."

The girl remained silence.

"Do you know where he has gone?" Sybil asked, hoping the girl would understand.

The child brought her hands together and placed them against her cheek, miming sleep.

"I see." Sybil glanced up towards the ceiling of the cave. She could see there was light, but the beams of sunlight that had once filtered through were disappearing. Which meant the sun was no longer directly overhead.

"Can you tell me your name?"

The little girl shook her head and it was then that Sybil saw that her throat was completely covered in wounds. In fact, Sybil saw no patch of the girl's skin that appeared intact.

Her heart broke at the sight, but Sybil did not move, afraid of what would happened if she did. Instead she smiled again, hoping the expression would soothe the girl.

"What if I called you River?" Sybil asked. "Would that be all right? Just until you can tell me your name."

The girl stared at Sybil for a long moment and then looked away, her eyes once more becoming dull and unresponsive.

Sybil sighed. "River it is." She glanced back up to the tiny patch of sky. "You know, I came here looking for a lost people. I never believed a vampire would find me."

It was just her luck. "Of _course_ a vampire would find me," she muttered hysterically. "Now watch me turn into one of those things."

River's head whipped around, her blue eyes wide with fear.

"Sorry," Sybil said, holding her hands out in a gesture of peace. "I didn't mean it."

The two sat in silence for a long while and then Sybil began to sing. The notes came softly at first, husky because of the damage to her throat. But after a moment, the sound soared brightly, filling the cave with a strange purity.

The activity soothed Sybil's anxiety and fear, pushing the emotions deeper and deeper so that she felt an odd calm. And, when she glanced towards River, Sybil noticed that the song seemed to be comforting the little girl as well.

Pleased with her effort, Sybil did not notice the cavern growing darker, nor the stillness which crept into the fouled air. Instead, she continued her song, allowing the notes to fill her and sink into the earth.

With all her might, she sand to River of a great energy which would sweep them up and carry them away from that awful place. She sang of the vampire and his death.

Abruptly, a hand snaked forward and grasped hold of Sybil's throat, crushing the music from her. She gasped for breath, eyes slit as she was pulled towards the gaping mouth of the vampire.

His foul breath washed over her, causing Sybil's stomach to roil. She glanced for the barest of seconds towards River, to make sure the girl was all right, before returning her attention to their captor.

"I had intended for you to tend to the girl and be paralyzed by my little spell," the vampire snarled, "but it appears you're too clever for that." A dastardly grin pulled at his lips, revealing those wretched, stained teeth. "Very clever."

Sybil felt her heart stop in fear at the speculative glance the horrid creature gave her. She did not know what he wanted with her, but she knew she would not like it. Her gaze was pulled once more towards River.

Catching Sybil's line of sight, the vampire crackled and tossed her to the ground. "Ah yes," he said, appearing beside River. He raked a claw down the girl's face, drawing a deep red line across her cheek. "Her blood is not as rich as a hunter's, but it is rich enough."

With that, the monster licked the blood from the girl before pushing her away. With a malicious smile, he glanced towards the nearby corpse--obviously what was left of River's mother--and broke it to pieces.

A piercing scream, more heart-wrenching than any Sybil had ever heard, filled the chamber and River threw herself at the remains. But the vampire's hand struck her with brutal force and River was knocked clear across the room, falling to the ground like a rag doll.

Sybil sucked in a deep breath and moved towards the little girl, wanting to know if she was all right. But she was stopped as the vampire grabbed her once more. "Now, now," he rasped. "You can have her later, pet. But first _I_ must be fed."

Sybil struggled to break his grip as the vampire sank his teeth into her neck again, drawing out what was left of her life's blood. Desperately, she fought the urge to slip into unconsciousness. She fought to stay alive. She _needed_ to live.

The vampire cackled and pulled away from her, wiping at the blood still clinging to his chin. As everything before her swayed and dimmed, Sybil watched the creature bite his own wrist and thrust it at her.

Disgusted, Sybil turned feebly away, but it was no use. The last of her strength drained, she could not stop the vampire from forcing his blood down her throat. And, as she tasted that metallic, acidic stuff, Sybil realized with a sinking heart that this was not the first time.

As the new blood coursed through her, it brought Sybil a new kind of pain. Though her body had felt uncomfortable and battered, it now felt as if the very blood in her veins was boiling, burning her alive. She gasped and fell to the cavern floor, trying to ignore this new pain, but it was no use.

As Sybil curled into a tiny ball, the vampire laughed once more. "He told me to bring him anyone who entered that church, but I realize now this is so much more entertaining." His red eyes gleamed. Finally, I'll have a woman all to my own."

Sybil raised her head an inch, the world whirling around her. "What… about the…" she gasped in pain "…others?"

The creature knelt in front of her and gripped her arm, digging his jagged nails into her already bruised and swollen skin. "They weren't worthy. But you…" he liked his lips. "You are different."

_You are different._

The words reverberated through Sybil's head and she closed her eyes to block out the thought. She had heard those words before, years ago. It had been the reason for every rejection, the reason every member of her family cast her aside. To this day, Sybil did not understand. But now, it did not matter. All that mattered was that this hell ended soon.

"River," she whispered faintly as the world darkened dangerously. "River, I'm sorry."

* * *

Through her nightmares, Sybil felt a tiny hand tug at hers. She tried to brush it away, but the movement persisted.

Cracking open her eyes, Sybil found herself staring into a pair of solemn blue eyes. She sighed in relief at River, but the moment was short-lived as a foot kicked the little girl away.

"Awake, I see," came the dreaded hiss of sound.

Sybil tried to draw back, but her body would not comply. Watching her hungrily, the vampire _tsk_ed.

"You won't last long this way," he commented. He did not seem too torn up about the prospect.

Without hesitation, he bit into her again, closing his eyes in delirium as he fed on her. Sybil's heart pounded in fear, but the vampire only drew more blood. Greedy, he moved from the wound on her arm to the still gaping bite on her throat.

The pain was unbearable, but Sybil found herself rooted to the spot. She could not escape, could not fall again into blessed sleep. Her fingers dug into the earth, as if seeking aid from the very soil, and she managed to press herself back.

A whimper came from River as the vampire shoved his arm back at Sybil's mouth. Unable to look at the small girl and her round, horrified eyes, Sybil turned her head away. But the vampire was ruthless. With an eerie grin, he shoved her face back in the opposite direction. He forced his blood down Sybil's burning throat, filling her with what felt like acid.

Within moments, the vampire withdrew, falling upon River and tearing into her young flesh with vigor. It was obvious that feeding Sybil had taken a lot from him.

But, even as Sybil tried to move to help the girl, the fire in her blood blossomed horribly, spreading through her with wicked intent. The fire rippled, licking at her insides and a husky scream tore from her battered throat.

The pain was unlike any other and Sybil could barely think through it. She felt as though her insides were being burnt and consumed, sacrificed and rearranged. Though she could hear the vampire's delight at her agony, Sybil did not care. She crawled, aching, towards the darkest part of the cavern, hands clawing at the dirt beneath her, trying to grip something, anything.

More fire ripped through her and Sybil let out another cry, her body trying to relieve itself of its toxins. Terrified, she curled into a ball and prayed. She pressed her cheek to the cool earth and begged to be taken away from her dying body.

Howling laughter followed her as her blood began to boil. Sybil closed her eyes in desperation, tears clinging to her lashes, and willed her soul to flee. And, as the pain gained strength, Sybil's consciousness sank into the earth, pulled along by a cool and soothing light.

Though she still felt the pain, Sybil found she floated just above it, cradled in the arms of a primordial energy. She did not know what was happening to her, but for the moment, she did not care. As her mind cleared, Sybil determined to save herself and the little girl from the hell they had been dragged into. She just needed to figure out how.

_I will help_.

Sybil did not know where the warm, feminine voice came from. Instead, she accepted it and the power flowing through her being. A beat, deep and wild, filled her, moving in waves around her.

_It has been many, many years since I felt the mind of a human_, the voice continued. _Often have you reached for me, given of yourself and your dreams to strengthen me. I will help you. _

With every beat, every word, the agony Sybil felt drew farther away from her. Her sense of time attached itself to that sound until her very soul felt intertwined with it. She feared that, should the primal beat die, so would she.

Sybil's thoughts turned to River, and she hoped the little girl escaped such agony. She felt so alone, bereft of the people once so important in her life. Always, she felt connected to her friends through an unbreakable bond. But now Sybil felt empty, her soul split in two. Though she often felt a glimmer of that emptiness in her past, never had it become so real and heart wrenching.

Silently, she called out to her friends, wanting to feel close to them one last time. But everything now was different. Her whole world had been shattered by the will of a monster.

As the wracking pain began to fade, Sybil was brought abruptly back to her body. She stilled completely, trying to sort out her heightened senses. Her blood still attacked her, but the feeling was growing less as Sybil slowly came to awareness.

Soon her attention focused on the vampire. When Sybil's cries had diminished, the vampire turned onto River, and was laughing malevolently as he tossed the young girl about. A desperate rage filled Sybil then, and she rose silently, body roaring with a strange, angry energy.

In the back of her mind, Sybil knew that power did not solely belong to her, but for the moment, it did not matter. All that mattered was killing this wretched monster and freeing them from this dark and putrid lair.

As if sensing the danger Sybil now presented, the vampire still, red eyes narrowing. Letting River's broken body fall to the floor, he walked slowly forward, head moving hypnotically. Quite suddenly, his countenance cleared, becoming handsome and refined. The trick, however, was lost on Sybil.

"I see you," she said softly, gentle voice filling the cavern. "You are a damned thing, and the earth has no use for you."

At the pure sound of her words, the vampire howled, shifting and reappearing just behind Sybil. With lightning speed, he reached to grab hold of her throat, but he was left clutching air. Confused, he whirled to find her standing at his back, serene smile on her face. The vampire had no time to react before Sybil thrust her hand into his chest.

Screeching now in pain, the vampire twisted, clawing at Sybil's face and arms. But it was no use. With every blow, Sybil's skin glowed brighter, casting a white-hot light about the chamber. And with that light, the hand that clutched the demon's heart began to burn.

Suddenly, flames burst from the vampire's chest and Sybil leapt back, clutching the charred remains of his heart. She watched, dispassionate, as the vampire fell to the floor, his body turning to ashes from the flames that had burned within.

The battle took only a moment, but Sybil already felt drained of the incredible power that had flowed through her.

Sybil fell to the floor as her legs collapsed beneath her. She was filled with a sudden emptiness, a deep and abiding hunger that swept through her with a vengeance. On the air, she scented something sweeter than anything she could ever imagine. And, as her mouth watered, her eyes came to rest on River's slight form.

Fangs burst to life behind her lips and Sybil let out a cry of despair. Was this then the fate she had gained?

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Thanks for reading. I remind everyone to please review. Also, in case you haven't read it yet, the preview chapter for Christine Feehan's new Dark Peril is up on her website in the members only section. I encourage you to read it!**

**-ravynwren**


	3. Chapter 3

**here's chapter three...i hope you find it a good read.**

**disclaimer: i don't pretend to own anything**

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Slavica watched anxiously as Mikhail Dubrinsky entered the inn. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, but he wore a cloak of power around him that made even the hardiest person pause. Slavica knew few human were aware of who he truly was, and she had always felt privileged to be included in his secret world.

Prince Mikhail, leader of the Carpathian people. All held great power, but they spent most of their time helping to protect people from the vilest of creatures--the vampire.

Truth be told, Mikhail and his people intimidated Slavica greatly. Still, she had requested his presence.

Spotting the woman, Mikhail smiled wearily. He had gone through a lot in the past few weeks, with the arrival of his granddaughters and the various troubles plaguing his people. Many were working around the clock in order to find solutions--including his own sister-in-law--but the worry was beginning to show on him.

"Good evening, Slavica. Was there something you needed?"

Slavica bit her lip. "For the past few weeks, there has been a young woman living in one of the cabins just outside of the village…"

Mikhail nodded. "Ah, yes. Miss Darrow, the historian." His gaze darkened. "Is something wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, Slavica continued. "A few days ago, she came to me, speaking of a new people she believed she discovered."

The prince stilled. "And you are concerned?"

Slavica shook her head. "I am not concerned that she has any ill intentions--she seems simply curious. But Sybil left a few days ago, promising she would return. It has been a long while now, and I am concerned. Especially if she knows something she should not."

"Do you know where she was going?"

"She mentioned a church deeper in the forest, but surely she would have returned by now." Slavica looked up at Mikhail, genuine concern written on her face. "Sybil is a very quiet and polite young woman; I would hate for anything to happen to her."

Mikhail sighed at the concern in the innkeeper's voice. Slavica was a great friend to the Carpathian people, helping with their children and protecting the Carpathians from too many prying eyes. If she requested something of Mikhail, he could not ignore her.

Besides, if Slavica was right about the young woman knowing something about the Carpathians, Mikhail could not leave her to wander about. As it was, his people were encountering a crisis never before seen; they could not afford any other problems.

"I will ask someone to see to her," Mikhail promised. "In the meantime, I would like to ask you to be especially cautious, even during the day. It would seem the undead are getting bolder, and they have no qualms about sending their puppets to do their bidding."

Slavica shuddered as she remembered her last encounter with the puppets of the undead. Nodding, she swore she and her family would do all they could to keep a vigilant watch.

Mikhail left the inn, only to be greeted by an annoyed Gregori. Mikhail rolled his eyes and stepped around his second-in-command.

"Mikhail, you should not be walking about unescorted," the Dark One groused.

"I am a grown man, Gregori. I believe I can watch after myself for a few minutes." The Prince turned to look at his son-in-law. "How are Savannah and the girls? I did not think you would have left them so early."

Gregori fell into step with Mikhail and gave a rare, relieved smile. "They are doing well. Ivory could not have done a better job; I find no evidence of the microbes, and it appears that Savannah is now resistant to them."

"Ivory is a marvel," Mikhail agreed. "We are all in her debt--and in Razvan's as well--for their work against Xavier."

"Yes. We are fortunate to have them. Razvan has little experience fighting against the undead, but his penchant for strategy is unmatched. And Ivory has been working more and more with Shea and Gabrielle in identifying the properties of the organisms she found."

Mikhail frowned. "But she has not been working well with Natalya," he guessed.

"No. But then, she cannot be blamed. Still, the two have kept in contact." Gregori stopped. "There is something troubling you."

It was not a question and Mikhail expelled a rough breath. "Slavica says there is someone who has found out about us--or at least has her suspicions--but the woman has not been seen in several days. Slavica worries something might have happened to her, but she is uncertain."

"She wishes for someone to investigate the matter?"

"Yes. And I think it would be wise for us to find this woman and see what she knows."

Gregori gave a slight bow. "I will look into it. In the meantime, you should get back to Raven. We cannot have her agitated by the fact that her lifemate is roaming around unprotected." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "You are, after all, a grandfather now."

Mikhail chose to ignore the jibe, deciding to take the higher road. For now. "All right, all right. Go and find out about young Sybil," he said instead.

The healer shot Mikhail a cheeky grin and launched himself into the sky. He kept in the area, making sure Mikhail did not wander off again, before turning his attention towards finding Slavica's missing person.

Gregori knew Sybil Darrow lived in a cabin not far outside the village. More than once, he had scanned her mind for any ill-intentions, but had found she had a natural resistance. However, it had seemed odd in that Sybil seemed to project a confusing array of color and sounds, making it impossible to discern any one thought. After that, he had checked in periodically, trying to determine if she was a woman of true psychic power. As of yet, he had been unable to ascertain anything.

Still despite her natural barriers, Gregori had sensed she was quite genuine and rather kind.

Arriving at her cabin, Gregori shimmered into form. He frowned as he approached the structure. Everything around her home was strong and overflowing with energy.

A noise alerted Gregori that he was not alone, and he whirled, only to find himself staring into the strange, golden eyes of a black cat. Bending down to examine the creature, the Dark One found the animal was more than it appeared.

Though he believed it definitely a cat, Gregori sensed something else within the creature. And yet he could not understand what it was. Just with the fauna surrounding the cabin, the cat was filled with a strange energy.

Shaking his head, he gently stroked the cat before rising. "Good evening, Mataias." He turned to face the ancient warrior. "It is rare to see you without the company of your brothers."

Mataias inclined his head. "The Prince requested I join you in finding this young woman," he explained, nodding towards the cabin. "He has employed Lojos and Tomas in tracking down a newly-turned vampire that has been plaguing the surrounding villages."

Gregori nodded and moved to study a pair of tire tracks. They led deeper into the forest and were fresher than the others. The woman had obviously headed in that direction.

Mataias looked around, studying the small cabin and the varying spring life. "There is a strange presence here," he stated finally.

Everything, from the tiniest flower to the tallest tree hummed with an unusual aura. It reached out to Mataias and brushed against his skin like a gentle caress. It was disconcerting, bringing to Mataias a faint feel of emotion when he had gone so long without.

For centuries he lived in a world filled only with the memory of duty and honor. Even colors had been stolen from him. Though he had his brothers to shoulder the burden, Mataias had begun to feel the heavy darkness spreading across his soul more acutely. His brothers, too, felt their own souls falling into shadows and the three of them had vowed to end their existence when Mikhail's latest requests were fulfilled.

He and his brothers had walked the earth for too long and their demons followed closely on their heels. With each passing night, those demons grew stronger, while the brothers' wills to keep them at bay wavered.

"Yes," Gregori agreed, staring off into the forest. "We should continue."

Just a the two readied to shift, they felt power roll through the earth beneath them, carrying the same odd feeling as the energy gathered about the cabin.

The two warriors glanced at each other before quickly taking on the forms of owls.

_The energy was similar_, Mataias pointed out. _It must have come from the woman._

_Yes, but there was something ancient about that surge of power._ Gregori pushed the owl to fly faster. _We must hurry. _

_You suspect something?_

_I do not know, but it is best we find this woman as quickly as possible. That energy will not have gone unnoticed,_ Gregori answered grimly.

The two Carpathians flew fast, speeding towards the center of the sudden ripple of power. Mataias wondered just what they would find, hoping for the woman's sake that she had not met the undead.

Below, they could see the truck the woman had used, but it was abandoned, the door still left wide open. Even from the sky, Mataias could see evidence of a struggle. The situation was looking more and more grim.

After a little while, they spotted a church nestled in a meadow. Mataias remembered the chapel, recalled when it had been built. Though they had not taken part in its creation, Mataias and his brothers had offered funds for the monks who settled there. But, as he recalled, the church had been abandoned not a century later, left to the elements.

The woman had approached the church, spent time there, but beyond that there was little else. The two continued on.

Touching down in a ravine, Mataias and Gregori searched for the source of the energy. But there was nothing to be found, only rocks scattered about. If there had been something there, it was gone.

Gregori frowned. "There must be something."

Mataias nodded in agreement. Though the place looked deserted, there was no doubt this was where the power had come from. They needed to find the woman quickly.

As the two Carpathians searched, Mataias began to feel something at the edge of his mind. Like the wings of a butterfly, it brushed at him, the faintest hint of energy.

_There is definitely something here._

Gregori nodded, silver eyes examining every crevice. After a moment, he stilled. _A cave. Beneath the earth._ He scowled. "I can determine little else; ancient magics protect it, but I feel the taint of death there." _There should be an opening somewhere. _

Mataias felt himself drawn to a nearby tree, its deadened limbs twisted and black. He studied it, noting as it shivered weakly in the wind. _Gregori. Here._

The Dark One approached the tree and examined it a moment before cautiously pressing at a knot halfway down the trunk. There was a slight hesitation but, after a moment, the tree shook and the earth opened between its roots.

"A newly turned vampire did this?"

Gregori said nothing and instead entered the tunnel.

As soon as the two entered the cave, they stopped dead, bringing their hands up to protect their noses from the stench of rot and putrefaction.

So great was the smell that the two Carpathians nearly missed the hunched figure at the far end of the chamber. Mataias moved towards the shape, eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness of the cave.

Behind him, Gregori cursed. _Look at them._

Huddled against the wall of the cave was a battered-looking woman, her long brown hair tangled and full of mattered dirt and blood. Mataias followed the path of one filthy arm and saw that the woman had her hand pressed against the throat of a small child. Both had their eyes closed.

But what surprised the two Carpathians most was the subtle energy radiating from the woman's hand. Power flowed from her weakening body into the near-lifeless one of the girl.

_She is Carpathian_, Mataias noted. He could feel her intense hunger beating at him as if it were his own. His eyes swept over the many open wounds of the child. Though he had fed well that night, even he felt his mouth watering at so much blood. _How does she endure it?_

Mataias stepped closer and the woman's eyes suddenly snapped open. They were fierce and bright, full of fear and determination.

"Leave," she mouthed, unable to form words past the terrible hunger.

Gregori moved around Mataias and opened his hands in a gesture of peace. "We want only to help," he assured her. "We are not the enemy."

The woman looked at him skeptically before glancing back down at the child in her arms. This time, when she raised her head, her eyes were filled with weariness.

"I can help her," Gregori said softly, slowly approaching the two. "Heal her."

Mataias watched dispassionately as Gregori reached down for the girl. The woman was reluctant to give her charge up, but her body was severely weakened, starved nearly to the point of death. It was obvious she could continue no longer.

_Mataias, take the woman. I would like to bring these two to Mikhail's home before I attempt to heal them._ The healer looked around the cave, his lips curling in disgust. Though there were no bodies, he could still smell them. Death clung to the cavern; it was no place to heal.

Nodding, Mataias crossed the distance to the woman and swept her up. For a moment, she stirred weakly, placing her hand on his arm in protest. Though he had felt nothing in centuries, the woman's touch sent a warm shudder through Mataias. Quickly, he pushed her hand away and followed as Gregori left the cave.

The Carpathians swiftly flew through the sky with their charges, stopping only when they arrived at Mikhail's home. Though the woman was converted, the child was not. They could not be taken to the healing caves.

The prince approached the two warriors, dark gaze taking in the sight of the unconscious girl and the nearly turned woman.

"I have called Shea and Francesca, and requested Ivory come as well." He stepped back and gestured towards his home. "Please, enter."

Gregori nodded and swept into Mikhail's home. Without a word, he entered the basement and went further into the hidden underground chamber. Here, he could work on the woman and child comfortably.

Behind her lifemate, Raven looked on apprehensively. Her violet eyes were full of sorrow as she took in the sight of the battered child. "What happened?"

"The undead," Mataias supplied, gently laying the woman in a particularly fine bed of soil. For a moment, his gaze lingered on her now still form, but then he retreated, preferring to stand against the far wall.

He watched as three women entered the room.

Fair-skinned with wine red hair, Shea Dubrinsky did not immediately look like a great healer, but Mataias had heard that the Prince's sister-in-law had spent her human life as a brilliant surgeon and now devoted her time towards finding a solution to the infertility rate of the Carpathian people.

Francesca Daratrazanoff, lifemate to one of the legendary twins, stood with regal command, but she gave off an air of serenity and calm matched by few others. She was a true healer, nearly as powerful as Gregori himself, though Francesca had always been quite humble with her skills.

Behind her mother, the young Skyler entered the chamber, Dragonseeker eyes wide and wary. Despite her slender and fragile appearance, Skyler was extremely gifted. And, though she was not fully Carpathian, she held most abilities of the Dragonseeker line. Often, Skyler helped her adoptive mother, keeping close to the ancient Carpathian woman.

Seeing others, Mataias stiffened. His body remained tense as Ivory Malinov and her lifemate Razvan approached. The two had kept mostly to themselves after reentering Carpathian society, though with good reason. As the grandson of the evil Xavier, Razvan carried the weight of suspicion continuously, though he had sacrificed his body, mind, and even his soul for the sake of others. Ivory, too, was related to the master vampires now continuing Xavier's dastardly plans.

The two, however, had more than proved themselves by helping to save Gregori's twin daughters, and by destroying Xavier. Though they were reluctant, Ivory and Razvan were slowly being drawn deeper into the world of their brethren.

Almost immediately, the women turned their attention to the woman and child, their faces paling. It was Razvan, however, who had the most trouble. His gaze fixed on the little girl and he stilled, the air around him crackling with unspent energy.

Without missing a beat, Ivory threaded her fingers through Razvan's and sent him a reassuring smile. Turning back to Gregori, she asked, "What do you need me for?"

Gregori motioned to the woman lying on the ground. She was recently converted by a vampire. We must be certain she has not been infected with the parasites."

Ivory moved closer and inspected the young woman's body. After a moment, she pulled out and shook her head. "I sense no parasites. There is very little damage at all. Had you not told me, I would not have known she was newly converted." She looked to her lifemate. "Mother Earth has had a hand in helping her, but I cannot say how much."

The Dark One bowed his head. "Thank you." He glanced back towards his two newest charges. "Perhaps that is how the woman was able to push aside her hunger so easily."

"She is starved, and newly converted," Mataias interjected. "It would have been impossible for her to resist draining the child--especially when the girl has so many wounds already."

Francesca nodded in agreement as she examined the little girl. "There is not a place on this girl which has not been injured." One delicate hand smoothed at the girl's matted hair. "She is very lucky to be alive."

"Perhaps luck was not the only factor," Gregori murmured, still looking at Sybil speculatively.

"What do you mean?" Mikhail demanded.

It was Ivory who answered, her eyes turning a deep amber. "There is something unusual about that woman."

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